When you feel frustrated as an actor it’s usually because you’re coming up against a boundary that exists in your life, in you. (The call is coming from inside the house!) 

These internalized rules, regulations, beliefs, determine boundaries for our behavior and provide limits as to how we interact socially, sexually, etc. and also how we relate to other actors when we’re working.  Some think that these personal boundaries don’t affect their work as actors.  They believe that because they’re playing A Character that these boundaries automatically disappear.  (Or, they’re not aware of these “stops” as boundaries in life in the first place.) 

You are your art.  Your inhibitions, your fears, your prejudices, your beliefs, your memory—these factors and others come into play in your behavior in the moment, and each one is laden with blockages and free zones, and patterned ways of being.  The antidote to all of them, the universal solvent—is the truth.  The authentic response. 

When you’re in a place of truth, you’re in a free, flow state.  And nothing else matters.  Not fears, not judgments, not the opinions of others. Great artists have put Being Authentic at the top of their unconscious priority list. We, the audience, aren’t always seeing what you intend us to see. When we watch your “work” we’re more likely examining who you are, and how who you are impacts how you act.   

David Mamet hits it right on the head when he says in his brilliant book on acting, True and False, that the great goal of the actor is to become comfortable being uncomfortable. 

What makes you uncomfortable? Confronting a member of your family on their bullshit?  Horrible farts in crowded elevators?  People dying on the street from hunger and neglect? Sex with a stranger?  Sex with your monogamous partner?  Fearing to look foolish or inadequate?   

Not knowing what will happen in the next moment? 

The truth will set you free.  (Some clichés are true and this is one of them.) Your impulses, your instincts are at your core.  To stop your impulses in the moment is never the right choice for your work, your art.  (It’s probably not good for your life either, but as an acting teacher that’s none of my business.) Suppression of the impulse you have in any given moment can become so accustomed in our lives that we follow the same habit in our work and never know it. 

Caution can kill you.  Politeness can kill you.  Trying to please can kill you. (All the things your mother taught you were virtues, right? Did they all go to some School For Mothers that had the same universal curriculum?)  Sanford Meisner famously had a huge sign on the wall of his classroom : “FUCK POLITENESS!” 

Try reaching for the truth first. Before you examine your own impulse to determine whether or not your brain deems it "appropriate." See where it takes you.  Just try it on if it doesn’t always come naturally.  Try flying like a wasp up the nose of conventionality. Look for danger.  Look for the opportunity to surprise yourself.  George Orwell said “In a time of universal deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act.” I’m guessing he meant it as a piece of advice for all of us.  Great advice not only for artists, but for educators, for politicians, and at this precise moment in our shameful history—especially for bankers.

There are FOUR States through which you must pass to become a great actor (or a great anything)

State ONE: Unconscious Incompetence OR You don't know what you don't know.

State TWO: Conscious Incompetence OR You know what you don't know.

State THREE: Conscious Competence OR You can do it, but you have to think about it while you do it.

State FOUR: Unconscious Competence OR Not only can you do it, but you don’t have to think about it.  Also known as “Being In The Zone” or “The Flow State”.

EXAMPLE:  Riding A Bicycle

State One: You have no idea it requires balance (and a willingness to feel scared and to scrape the shit out of your knees) so you can’t figure out why you keep falling off.

State Two: You now realize it requires balance and a willingness to fall, but you can’t balance, so you’re still falling off.

State Three: You can ride now, but only while you are concentrating so hard on keeping your balance that you can’t see or enjoy the lovely trees on the street as you whiz by them.

State Four:  You’re riding down the street enjoying the scenery and you aren’t thinking at all about riding the bike, so you also notice the street signs, that it’s about to rain, and that beautiful creature who just passed you riding in the other direction. 

CHALLENGE:  Define the four Steps/States for yourself in terms of your life as an actor (or whatever art to which you aspire) and what you believe to be the necessary skills to be mastered, and then honestly identify (without either modesty or self-deception) which state you are currently in.

Don't work on your "acting skills" if you want to expand your talent.  Work on life skills, namely listening and responding in a more authentic, less polite, less accommodating way.  It’s pretty tough to be authentic as an actor without being authentic as a person.  Our cultural standards for authenticity (with Politics on the far right end of the scale and Art on the far left end) have sunk so low, that we may have lost sight of them all together.   

There is no Standard of Truth in politics of course, which is why it’s called “politics” in the first place. Abraham Lincoln is probably still the touchstone against which all others are measured, but he may actually have been a lying bastard who’s been seen through rosier and rosier colored glasses as the years have gone by.  (Don’t forget he only freed the slaves in the Confederacy at first.) Look at the “legacy” of Ronald Reagan.  That clueless asshole was a haircut in a suit, and he’s now being “remembered” as one of our greatest presidents. 

On the Art, Truth, and Beauty end of the scale there are plenty of artists who have achieved near perfection in their work, and who serve as touchstones for us all.  For actors, look at Sean Penn’s performance in “Milk”.  Watch Faye Dunaway in “Chinatown”, or Geraldine Page in “A Trip to Bountiful”. Look at Jackson Pollack’s “Number 8” if you want a touchstone for passion and freedom of expression with paint.   

Now if what you really want is to be a celebrity (who maybe works as an actor), that's fine, go for it, but don't pretend to yourself that you’re striving for authenticity by substituting networking and ass kissing for an education in the greater understanding of the human mind, heart, and soul. That particular kind of self-deception is everywhere, and it kills your ability to discover honest behavior whether you notice you’re doing it or not.  You’re screwed either way. If you know you’re doing it you’re neglecting your own care and feeding, and if you dont--if kissing the ass has become second nature--you’re sticking pins in the voodoo doll of your own authentic self without knowing it. 

To be authentic as an artist or a person, one must accept fear, discomfort, confusion, loss of control etc.  All the things we instinctively avoid or try to minimize in our daily lives as “regular” folk.  Artists are not regular folk.  Actors certainly are not, not the good ones, not the ones who can make us see and understand something about ourselves that was previously hidden from view.  The very nature of art and authenticity are inextricably linked, and when they’re forced apart, we get commerce which poses as art, or at best, commerce as entertainment.   

Reread “The Emporer’s New Clothes” if you really want to set yourself a useful course of study as an actor.  It’s a great touchstone for how and where to begin the journey.